


world spins madly on

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Samol (discussed but not seen), spoilers for SIH15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 06:32:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17544530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Fero returns to the university after the events of SIH15.





	world spins madly on

**Author's Note:**

> I cried during this episode and I cried when I got up this morning and I cried while writing this. Title is from the Weepies song of the same name because that is the level that i am at about this.
> 
> Unbetaed.

Fero feels it when it happens, of course. Even if he wasn’t connected to Samol now, he would still have felt the earth beneath his feet go cold and silent. For a moment he feels as though time stops - he doesn’t breathe, there’s no sound except a faint buzzing in his ears, his foot stumbles on it’s next step.

 

Hella reaches out to steady him. “You okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Fero manages to say, “hey, uh, I’m gonna go scout ahead for a bit, okay?”

 

He leaps into the air, turning into a sea squirrel before she can answer and jumping from tree to tree until Hella and Lem’s footsteps have faded completely.

 

Fero settles onto a branch and stills, taking a deep breath and reaching for Samol.

 

But the place Samol should be is cold, and there is no answer.

 

He doesn’t realise he’s turned back into a halfling until he’s wiping at his eyes. His nose is running. The hand not covering his face is digging into the thick branch he’s sitting on.

 

He can hear Hella and Lem approaching, below, and he scrubs at his face. He probably looks… Well. He doesn’t want to answer any questions about this right now. He doesn’t want to talk about this right now. There’s always the chance he’s just doing this wrong, or that Samol is mad at him, or something. People get mad at him all the time. It’s probably just that.

 

Fero keeps repeating it to himself as he head to find a stream to wash his face in before he rejoins the others. It’s probably just that. It’s probably fine.

 

He doesn’t tell them. Why tell them something he doesn’t know, totally dumb, he’d only just worry them and they’re both already so worried - returning to the Archives, fulfilling missions for gods, Emmanuel, the impending end of the world…

 

So he keeps it to himself, feeling it twist in his chest with every breath in and out even as he reminds himself that he doesn't  _ know _ if Samol’s really- if it’s true.

  
  


It is, of course.

 

Samol did tell him that he should trust his instincts more.

  
  


The University is busy when they return - Samot’s almost healed enough to return to Marielda, Ordenna’s apparently started an invasion, strange trees are popping up everywhere, the moon caused floods, and, of course, the world’s still ending.

 

Fero slips out the back of the room as soon as Ephrim tells them about Samol. He was standing behind Hella and Lem. They probably won’t even notice that he’s gone.

 

He stops by The Outhouse first, or he tries to, since it was washed out of existence by the moon crash. Fero stands in the water up to his ankles, feeling himself sink into the cold, dead earth. He can’t even really see where it was. It’s like he never built anything at all.

 

Fero squints up at the setting sun. It’s strange, that the world almost seemed more hopeful to him when they were without it.

 

He swallows hard, takes a deep breath, and starts walking uphill, towards the place he first entered the University. Towards the graveyard.

 

Samol’s grave is easy to find, laurels and wreaths and other small offerings left scattered around it, some from the funeral and some that look new. Fero looks at it for a moment, heart pounding.

 

“I didn’t bring you anything,” says Fero, his voice shaking.

 

His hands are shaking too, as he steps towards the headstone. It’s simple, Samol’s name with carvings of plants curling around it. It’s what Fero would have made for him, if he’d been here. 

 

Fero pushes aside a wreath to sit in front of the headstone, tipping his head back to look up at it as though it had Samol’s height. He traces a finger around the curve of a fern leaf that hangs over Samol’s name. He tries not to think about Samol walking with him through the Mark of the Erasure, pointing out ferns that looked just like this one, his hand steady and warm on Fero’s shoulder.

 

The world gets dark around him, turning the flowers and mementos surrounding the grave into vague gray shapes. Fero’s leg cramps up, the way it always does when he stays still for too long. It was the same leg as Samol’s sore knee, and when he was at the Erasure they’d joked-

 

Fero lets out a shuddering-gasping breath, pushing away the memory. It doesn’t work, the memory of Samol’s warm laugh too powerful to be ignored. Fero digs his nails into his palms but the only thing it does is give him sore hands on top of everything else. He’s never been very good at not following his own train of thought.

 

Samol hadn’t minded that. Samol had even  _ liked  _ that.

 

Fero keeps looking up at the headstone as light begins to creep over the watery horizon. The stone still feels cold, even where the light touches it.

 

There’s the sound of footsteps stumbling to a halt behind him and Fero wheels around, his loud defence that catcing in his throat the moment he sees who it is.

 

Samot is leaning heavily on a makeshift crutch, his now-short hair blown by the morning wind. He stares at Fero for a moment, breathing heavily from the walk uphill.

 

“I… wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here,” says Samot.

 

Fero waves a hand, as casually-dismissive as he can manage. “Don’t worry, you still look pretty flawless.”

 

Something flickers across Samot’s face and he lets out a sharp laugh, not long or loud but  _ bright _ . Fero thinks he can see, for a moment, some of Samot’s father in his expression.

 

“You must be the druid,” says Samot, “my father did say that you had a mouth on you.”

 

“He seemed okay with it- I mean, he never told me to be quiet,” says Fero.

 

Samot smiles. “He wouldn’t have. He liked the noise.”

 

They both turn back to the headstone. The birds are beginning their morning chorus over the sounds of the waves. Distantly, Fero can hear the guards exchanging morning greetings as they change shifts.

 

Fero swallows hard around the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

 

Samot shakes his head. He takes an unsteady breath in and out, putting one hand on the top of the headstone.

 

“It’s… it was his choice. If I’d been stronger, perhaps he would have- well. I don’t suppose it would have made much difference. He always was the most stubborn of us all.” Samot’s eyes slide to Fero without moving his head. “I… I apologise. For word not being sent to you. I understand you were close.”

 

Fero shrugs, or tries to. “We only met a few years ago, it’s nothing like…”

 

He waves his hand at Samot, hoping that Samot has his father’s talent for understanding what he means.

 

“Still,” says Samot. He pauses for a moment before continuing. “My father… he liked many people, despite how annoying he often found them as a whole, but… there were not many that he was truly fond of outside of our family.” He turns towards Fero. “I wish that you could have been here, if only to have your chance to say goodbye.”

 

Fero’s vision blurs. “Yeah, me too.”

 

Samot holds out a hand to him (or, at least, that’s what it looks like through Fero’s cloudy vision) and Fero takes it clumsily, pulling himself towards Samot for a clumsy hug. Samot makes a sound of surprise, his hand fluttering around Fero for a moment before settling on his shoulder.

 

Fero wipes at his eyes, tilting back to look up at Samot. “Sorry, I-”

 

“It’s fine,” says Samot. His eyes look damp. “It’s… I can see why he chose you.”

 

Fero’s chest feels too tight to keep looking at him, so he presses his face to Samot’s side for a moment before he steps back, steadying himself on Samol’s headstone. He runs his sleeve of his face before he looks back up at Samot.

 

“So you’re heading back to Marielda, huh?”

 

Samot nods, straightens. “Yes. The world does not stop for us any more, and I cannot leave my people to face Ordenna alone.” He pauses. “And you? What will you do now that you have returned?”

 

Fero shrugs, running a ragged nail along the rough headstone. “I had a place here that I was making, for people to be able to stay instead of- if they needed it, because sometimes people don’t  _ want _ to live at the University and they should be able to have a choice between the University or like,  _ nothing _ , but it’s-  it’s gone.”

 

Samot makes a sympathetic noise. “The flood destroyed much. It is a shame, it sounds like a worthwhile service.”

 

“Yeah,” says Fero, “it’s going to take  _ forever _ to rebuild it.”

 

Samot blinks. “I… on the water?.”

 

Fero wrinkles his nose. “Nah, I’ll just find a different spot. I don’t like boats.”

 

“I see. What was it called?” says Samot, “In case I want to send supplies to you.”

 

“Oh,” says Fero, “The Outhouse.”

 

“The-” Samot breaks off, laughing, truly, for the first time. “Of course.”

 

“I don’t know why everyone does that!” says Fero, “It’s a  _ house _ ! And it’s  _ out _ side the University! The  _ out house _ !”

 

“No, no,” says Samot, laughing in his voice, “I do see. I- oh...”

 

He looks off, down the hill towards the University. Ephrim’s guards are calling for Samot. A few point towards the graveyard as Samot waves to them. Fero waves too, because it sees like the thing to do, and it makes Samot laugh, which can’t be a bad thing. Gods are entirely too serious.

 

Fero swallows. Well. Most gods. The gods that are still around.

 

“It seems I am needed elsewhere,” says Samot, “But it was… I am glad to have met you, before I left.”

 

“Yeah, me too, I guess,” says Fero. His eyes drop back down to the headstone. “Sorry I was a bit late.”

 

Samot puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, and Fero covers his hand and squeezes back. Samot leans back, his hand trailing along the top of the headstone until he steps away.

 

“Take care Fero,” says Samot.

 

“Yeah, you too,” says Fero.

 

Fero leans his shoulder against Samol’s headstone, watching as Samot make his way slowly down the hill. There’s a flurry of movement - checking him over, hurrying him back inside the University walls. Fero rolls his eyes, huffing a breath.

 

He looks back at the headstone. “I can see where he gets it from.”

 

The headstone is cold, through the fabric of his shirt.

 

“Well,” says Fero, “guess I better get on with it. Keep trying huh?”

 

There’s no response, not really, except for where the sun has begun to peak out from behind the horizon, warming his face.

 

Fero lets out a long breath, feeling steadier. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

 

It starts making his way down the hill. He has a lot of work to do.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi and/or console me about fero; mariusperkins on most places


End file.
